A Book of Memories
by Piyo13
Summary: Feli has an idea- a history book. Written by the nations. Romano's entry is first, others will follow. Historical... mostly :D  T for Lovi's language. Ch. 2   Prussia! Ch. 3   England. Ch. 4   Germany. Ch. 5  just out!    Feli! :D
1. Chapter 1: Romano

Look at the pictures. I know that's what you do. You look at the pictures, and you squeal, and you jump around from place to place. Heaven knows why. Elizaveta has the same problem.

But anyway. That's not the point of me writing this. I mean, sure, I could rant to you for downright goddam _ages_ and my list of complaints wouldn't end. Wanna try me? Fine then. Do you know what I've seen? I know what you write about us, I've seen the drawings, the fanarts, and- no, shut UP dammit I do not _enjoy_ seeing them nor do I use up all my spare time browsing and- oh whatever.

Back to the _point._ The reason I'm writing this goddam letter. Or something. I don't even fucking know.

Yesterday, I was approached by Feli. No, I'm not going to cleverly introduce my younger brother, if you don't know who he is then fuck off and stop reading this.

No, seriously.

Anyway, as I was saying, Feli came up to me with some paper. He told me that he wanted to write a book. Yes, that's right, a fucking book. Only this couldn't be just _any_ fucking book. This was to be a fucking _history_ book. He figured that it'd be a genius idea to have all the nations write down one thing about their lives they remember the best, and then compile it all into a super-dooper overly filled with sentimental fucking shit and stuff and create a book.

Which actually might not have been too bad of an idea. The only problem is: there are limited amounts of people who will accept the goddam fact that the country they're living in is a fucking person. So brilliant idea gone, right?

Wrong. My dear, kind, _fucking_ potato-bastard had the brilliant idea of publishing it as a _fiction_ book. With "pretend" personifications of countries. The fuck?

Feli had no idea how close he came to losing a boyfriend right then. Seriously.

So Feli decided to continue with his goddam plan and give every nation a "chapter". And, annoying whiney bastard though he can be, I really do fucking hate to see Feli bawl his eyes out, so I might as well write.

So, here's my little memory. Enjoy.

España. The world's first true colonial power, holding at his peak over half the world quite literally in his hands. Yours truly included. Of course, way back then I was still a child, in both appearance and temperament. Over time, the Country of Passion has truly become more than just a Boss to me BUT that is NOT the fucking point. Back to the story.

Me, little kid. Part of the glorious and mighty Spanish Empire, the empire on which the sun never set. It was…

…terrifying.

You cannot imagine anything similar. Imagine the scariest thing you can. Multiplied by ten. I fucking dare you.

Why was he so scary?

Simple. Or, not really, but just keep reading, dammit.

Antonio at that time was still young. He couldn't have been more than 17, 18 at most. But he was strong. And he knew it. For years, whatever he wished just up and landed at his feet. The fact that Roderich let him walk all over him didn't help much. He was, in short, an empire.

A fucking bloodthirsty one.

I was never allowed with him into the New World, but I heard stories. I heard his stories too, of course. I heard tell of the horrible pagans, and how Antonio was doing the world good by bringing God to their side. He was enlightening them. I might have been young, but I was no fucking idiot. Even I could see he was bluffing, that this was just an excuse.

And he might have tricked me, pulled the bluff over my eyes, had he not been suck a fucking idiot. Not that he's changed much, now. He's just a tad more bearable. But anyway.

The reason I knew was because he would never change when he got home. His first priority was me. He would burst into my room, fresh off the ship, carrying tomatoes and little wooden horses and whatever else I desired.

He would also be covered in blood.

I don't know how much you know about the state of things back then, but bringing just a full set of armor and clothing and a horse with tack and everything was considered enough, even for the personification of the country. Antonio brought with him one pair of clothes, his full set of armor and range of weapons, and a giant chestnut stallion. Whatever he spilled on his clothes stayed until he was back on his own land.

It scared me. To see the blood on his clothes. To know that- despite all the fucking fairy tells he told me to comfort me, of the Aztecs and how he was searching for El Dorado, the City of Gold, of the Incas and how silver flowed off their mountains like water- to know that he killed. Not even just killed. Murdered. Massacred. I found out later that, when he was through with carving out a bloody scythe in the Americas, less than a third of the original population remained.

My boss was a fucking bloodthirsty monster, with, as Cortez put it, "a disease of the heart, curable only by gold". Gold, and blood.

Several times while he was home, especially in the later years, Netherlands showed up often, constantly picking fights with Antonio. I would see it then.

The change in his eyes. One moment he would be smiling as me like the fucking bastard he is, and then when he'd notice who was at the door, the smile was gone. It was replaced by a sneer, and his eyes turned dark and hard and sharp and… well, I would run the hell away from wherever Antonio was going with those eyes. He wasn't even Antonio anymore. He was a completely different person.

For years, those memories haunted me. I could never truly be happy when he was around. The only upside was that I was growing rapidly. By the late 1500s, I looked only a few years younger than the tomato bastard himself did. And then he and his most Great and Fortunate Armada went off and got their asses fucking deep-fried and served to then on a platter by stuck-up Arthur.

You think I'm kidding? 10,000 men survived. Out of a force of over 20,000. And the English bastard… well let's not go talking about what he did to Antonio now.

But here's the part where I remember most vividly. He'd been gone for almost a year, just me and Bella in the house together. Might as well have been just Bella, for all the help I was. I was never as good as Feli. At anything. But anyway. Antonio's been gone for a reaaaally long time. Bella just keeps quietly tending to the house, never sharing anything. I for my part, had given up hope. There had been no news; I was sure Antonio had died. And left me.

So one day, I'm sitting outside in the garden, tending to some tomatoes, when I see somebody walking down the road to ou- Antonio's house. Nobody has come to visit us except Bella's brother since Antonio left. But here is this guy, kinda stumbling rather than walking down the dirt path to the house. His clothes are brown, like his hair, and everything about him is scruffy and tattered. So what do I do? The natural thing.

I run up to him and give him a good headbutt in the stomach. It sends him sprawling on the ground. Only, there was a smile on his face. A kid just headbutted him in the stomach, and he's fucking _smiling. _That's when I realized who he was. So I immediately left him on the road, ran inside, got Bella, dragged her out, and then waited by Antonio as Bella rushed back inside to get medical supplies. Apparently the reason the bastard's clothes were brown was from blood.

For what seemed like the longest fucking time, I waited next to the stupid bastard. I will admit, I was scared. It was just like before- covered in blood once again. I didn't know what to expect.

Then, just before Bella came back, Antonio smiled softly and beckoned me closer.

"Hey, Lovi," he said. "I missed you." I blushed, which was really fucking embarrassing because he called me a tomato.

But nonetheless, I replied, "I missed you too." And, in hindsight, I guess it had been true. I'd maybe kinda even _missed_ the fucking bastard's idiot face. Maybe.

His smile, though weak, grew larger. "I love you, Lovi," he muttered, so soft I could barely hear. I remember perfectly the pure green color of his half-lidded eyes in that moment, as he smiled and me and told me, for the first time since he had become my Boss, that he loved me. Then Bella arrived.

As much as I tried for years to return that sentiment, I never could.

But… Antonio, if you're reading this (and don't like to me I fucking know you will), know two things.

One, that I was fucking LYING about all the sentimental mushy-gushy crap up there, godammit.

And second… so maybe I love you too.

And now the gushiness is going to kill me. I'm going to go give this to Feli now, God knows why and I'll never hear the end of it…

Fuck my brother, he wants me to sign this. As a country. FUCK YOU, FELI. You and your goddam potato-bastard boyfriend who'd beat me up if I didn't do exactly what you said. Fuck.

Signed,

Lovino Vargas

Italia Romano

Like you didn't already fucking know who I was.

_AHHHHHHH! Author note time! So it's like 2 am but I got hit pretty badly by DEH PLOT BUNNEH OF DOOOOOOM and so I had to absolutely write this… expect changes later. Probably. Of course, I'm lazy so that might not ever happen. Originally this was just a spamano fic for one of my friend who really is unhealthily in love with spamano (you know who you are) and it was supposed to be cutesy and fluffy but.. um… yeah. Anyways…. _

_Gah my comments are getting overly long. I was gonna say something else…._

_Oh yeah! So I might write more stories like this, I'm just working around with trying to get into different characters and improve my writing and whatnot. Any suggestions? They shall all be greatly appreciated :D _

_I'm done now. BYE! *is hyper on sleeplessness*_


	2. Chapter 2: Prussia

I'm too awesome for this.

Frederick the Great.

Tchüss.

Signed,

Awesome

P. S. Gilbird says hi. He's so awesome.

. .

Aw damn. Feli won't let me sign as awesome (even though he should, because I am).

Signed,

Gilbert Beilschmidt

Kingdom and Empire of Prussia

a.k.a. Awesome

O~O~O~O~O~O~O

_A/N: the easiest one to write. By far XD I'll have iggy's up in a few days, hopefully ^^_


	3. Chapter 3: England

I got an interesting visit yesterday.

Feliciano Vargas (accompanied, of course, by the bloody Kraut) came to my house. He brought with him an interesting proposition.

I'm writing a book, he said, And I'd like your help with it.

That is definitely not something you hear every day. Needless to say, I was quite intrigued. So, I invited him in, Kraut or not, and he told me his idea. I must say, it struck me as rather fascinating. A history book, written, as it would happen, by the countries themselves.

A Book of Memories.

And so, I agreed. I'm not sure if you've heard this all before, but I figure it wouldn't hurt to hear it again. At any rate, Vargas left me with a slip of paper, upon which the prompt was written.

"Your most important moment(s) in life."

So, I choose now to tell you about a very important time- or rather, a very important person.

Elizabeth Tudor, also known as Queen Elizabeth I.

...

She came from the long royal line of the Tudors. However, those were not necessarily the best credentials, considering most of her immediate family. Her father was Henry VIII, famed for his multiple wives and the creation of the Anglican Church. That was an especially hard time, for me as well. Most other countries in Europe hated me at that time, and countries from the rest of the world were still mostly apart, save for those close to killed by Carriedo and his brother. I was, at that time, going through my "Splendid Isolation" phase.

But, regardless, an Edward VI and a Bloody Mary later, Elizabeth took the throne. I was, as a matter of fact, the one to give her the crown and coronation ring. From the moment she stepped up, I knew she'd be different.

A capable diplomat, she quickly pushed religion out of central affairs, saying she had no right to see into men's souls. She also dealt effectively with Scott, who was being quite the bloody wanker at the time. She was more than capable at defending herself from Parliament's taunts, as she proved to me many times.

Probably her greatest accomplishment though occurred in 1588.

In case you were unawares, that is the date when I crushed Carriedo's bloody Armada and became King of the Seas.

But back to Elizabeth- there she was, with only me as her "guard", standing in the wet and cold as the Protestant Wind began to put itself to work (as a side note, I may or may not have pulled some magic for that) and delivered her speech. I, as country, could feel the almost-palpable pride and confidence she inspired in her troops and her people, all vastly outnumbered and outgunned by Carriedo's Armada. And I, as a person, felt those same feelings, as well as something else which I would not be able to name until later on in my life.

And what follows is, of course, the defeat of the Great Spanish Armada and hopefully the longest period of bloody living hell one certain Spaniard has ever had.

She was still, however, confusing at times. She once had an Anglican Bible published in which it stated that a woman's roles was to obey the wishes of her husband. And yet, here she was, unmarried and ruling a country. Her reasoning did, in fact, become clear later, though at the time I could not make sense of it.

It was during a Parliamentary meeting. Someone in the Parliament accused Elizabeth of not doing her job correctly, and of being too forward and pretentious with her power, especially considering she was unmarried. This person, if I recall correctly, also insinuated that it was high time for her to _get_ married.

Needless to say, her anger was nigh on palpable. What she did next truly astounded me.

She stood up, and began one of her verbal sallies against Parliament. However, it was the words in the middle that truly captured me, and are now burned into my very heart.

"I have already joined myself in marriage to a husband, namely the Kingdom of England." At this point, she showed them the coronation ring which I myself had given her. All eyes in the Parliament immediately turned to where I had been standing, behind her and to the left. Not even sparing me half a glance, she boldly continued, "What he wants is what I want, what he does is what I do. I can love only one, and that is our homeland."

With that, she stormed out of Parliament, leaving her guards behind. I signalled for them to follow her, taking a moment myself to excuse the lot of us and call the Parliamentary meeting to a close.

I discreetly avoided her for the next few days, mulling over her words. Finally, I could stand it no longer. Despite the fact that it was hours past a reasonable bedtime, I raced through the royal palace to her quarters. She seemed to have known I was coming, for she was sitting upright under her blankets.

"Greetings. To what may I owe this lovely visitation, England?" she said.

"Not England; please call me Arthur, Your Highness," I managed to choke out.

"Only if you call me Elizabeth." I shook my head slightly, trying to contain the odd tingles I felt in my stomach.

"Your Highness, I was wondering..."

"Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth, what you said in Parliament the other day... I wish to know..."

"If what I said was true?" I nodded tersely. "Every word of it, Arthur. You should know me well enough by now to know that I mean what I say." I opened my mouth to say something, but words completely failed me. No sound came forth.

Then, Elizabeth did something that shocked me even more than I already was. She gracefully stood up, walked over to where I was frozen, and planted a soft, chaste kiss on my lips.

"I love you Arthur, England, whatever name you choose to go by. I always have. And I always will." With that, she walked back to her bed, laid down, and pulled up the covers. "And may you have a good night, Arthur," she said.

I bowed deeply, then walked out of her chambers. Nothing else happened between us, but the memory of that night stayed with me ever since.

When she died, I wept at her funeral as I had for no other monarch. I could finally name the feeling that made my stomach tingle- love. Perhaps, as the years wore on, she did not, by any means, stay true to her word- I saw her with many others, and each one panged my heart- but she never married, nor bore any children, and I must take that as a sign of her love for me. Or maybe, I was just too in love with her to notice that she was not altogether faithful.

But whatever the end result, that night she earned herself an immortal follower- I, the Kingdom of England, had fallen in love with her, a mere mortal, with whom I could never be. Being forced to watch as one's love grows old, withers, and dies before one's eyes is a pain would not wish on anyone.

And that is the most important moment of my life. Another would be when I first found flying mint bunny, but that's a story for another time...

Signed,

Arthur Kirkland

United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

_A/N: ack. Well, I tried to stay at true to history as I could... i don't know how well that actually worked out, in the end__**... feedback and corrections are much appreciated. **__And to any people fluent in british English out there- help! My poor american-english-speaking self has no clue how to speak british, so if you'd care to help with word choice and whatnot i'd bake you a virtual feast *grabs oven mitts*_

_**IMPORTANT NOTE ABOUT THE QUOTES: **__ONLY THE FIRST LINE SAID BY ELIZABETH IS HISTORICALLY ACCURATE. I got it off http:/ www .elizabethi. org/us/ quotes/, but i originally saw it... well, read below._

_The inspiration for this- my AP European history exam. One of the essays was on Elizabeth, and it included the quote about being married to England and all. So... obviously i had to act on that xD Elizabeth I did/said pretty much all of those things except for what she "said" to iggy..._

_I really hope i haven't offended anyone... _

_I heard somewhere that, while Elizabeth was called the "virgin queen", she actually had a fair amount of suitors. Of course, i heard that AFTER i'd already written the whole thing, so i'm sorry if it sounds a little awkward in the wording and whatnot..._

_Sorry for the super-long author's note! R&R, reviews make my day! :D_

_**As an additional note, i leave for germany in about a month. I'll try and get another chapter up by then, but if i don't, this'll be the last chapter until i come back from my 10-month hiatus in germany. I'm dead-set on learning german, and writing in English probably won't be the best way to help that... i'm sorry but i hope you'll understand ^^**_


	4. Chapter 4: Germany

"Listen, Allemagne... we've had our struggles in the past."

There are some words that I'll never forget. They came at a time that I'd least expected them to- I had, albeit misguidedly, destroyed half of Europe. I, and I alone, was to blame this time, not like before, during the First World War. During the Second, I alone did the deeds. I alone wiped the blood of millions off of a gun, then picked it up and continued shooting. I alone almost tore the world apart.

And no, before you ask, I still haven't forgiven myself for it. Nowadays, the other nations all tell me, it wasn't my fault, it was because of _him_, and others also held the blame... No, I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive myself for what happened. There are some things that should never be repeated, nor forgotten.

It was in the wake of the War, that things started to look up for me. For the first couple of years, I was a wreck, that is true. Everything I did was scrutinized by the world's eyes, and to make things worse there were issues with Russia- then the Soviet Union- and my brother.

"I don't think it should ever happen again."

America, England, and France had all given me money, all helped me- especially America. Dummkopf or not, he _did_ help. But they weren't friends, by any means of the word. Even Feliciano was distanced from me. I wasn't a poor nation- by European standards of the time, I was relatively well-off- but the War had left scars, many of which still show today.

"Thus, I propose to you, mon ami, a supranational coalition of coal and steel."

In retrospect, I think I should have been able to see this coming. After all, France's minister had been talking about it for... almost since the War ended, in fact. That we two, as the most powerful nations in Europe, should never be allowed the chance to fight again. If, as he said, coal and steel- two primary ingredients for war- were to be controlled by a separate force? And not only a force not controlled by a government, but a force that would combine the collective resources of several countries?

War would be impossible, if no country had his own supplies.

And so, obviously, I had to agree.

Soon, Feliciano, Belgium, Netherlands, and Luxembourg all came to join us. The Low Countries already had their own union, but they nonetheless joined ours. Two years later, in 1953, the European Coal and Steel Community was officially in action.

It worked smoothly. We all had our doubts, of course; particularly France and I. Some of our politicians were distrusting of one another, but our people as a whole supported this arrangement, and so it prospered.

It was then, as I signed my signature onto the Treaty between Nations, I felt the first glimmer of hope light. Maybe... I could fix some of what I had done wrong. It was an idea that possessed me, almost.

We added to the Community every couple of years; EURATOM, the EEC. Time flew as I tried to revive my economy and bring the rest of Europe up with me at the same time. Soon, it was 1989, and the fall of the Berlin Wall. The first time in decades I'd seen Gilbert.

Immediately, I took him in, sent him money, did everything I could. Work in that time period doubled for me; I had organizations to manage, a country to run, and East to help. My dream was slowly coming true, but at a price. For several months, I barely ever slept; later others have told me that I was a madman at the time, always working, completely focused. But I needed no sleep, because the Wall had fallen, the Cold War was over, and I had my capital back. (For those of you who don't know, not having a capital city, or not having a city with you, if the most painful thing we countries can experience. It's an emptiness inside, a deep Einsamkeit in your soul). Life was wonderful.

Then, the Maastricht Treaty. If before we Europeans had been rather close-knit a community, now we were closer than ever. Many of us were startled at the pace of things; we nations have lived through so many wars, that such a long period of peace was almost unprecedented. This is not to say there weren't problems. During the making of the Treaty of Nice, France and I had a few struggles; my population was far greater than his, but he wouldn't accept my right to have more votes in the council. However, we reached a compromise in the end, and the European Union, as it came to be called, was becoming more powerful by the day.

In 2002, the Euro was introduced. Many of us were sad to see our old currencies go, and many of our people were skeptical of this new, supra-national currency. However, it worked out for the best. The Euro was strong, and it could be used in many countries, eliminating the need for currency exchanges. Borders were soon opened, and shipping and goods throughout the EU as well. We also kept expanding; every few years, more countries would join.

Today, we still have the Euro, and the EU remains as strong an organization as ever. Out of six nations that began to unify in '53, there are now twenty-seven, and counting. Europe is by no means _unified_; we countries are too stubborn for our own good sometimes, and I don't ever think that we can ever truly work together.

But we can try. There are some things that the world will never forget; there are some things man can never forgive himself for. But, together with others, we have stopped war in Europe. We have united a continent, that for millennia was constantly at war; we have taken people, from the highlands of Spain to the plains of Hungary, and made them part of a single community.

This, I think, is my most important memory, thought, and dream.

Signed,

Ludwig Beilschmidt

Bundesrepublik Deutschland

O:O:O:O:O

_Einsamkeit= loneliness _

_AHHHHH. INFORMATION OVERLOAD. but seriously- have you learned enough about the EU yet? to everyone who is not aware: i am currently living for a year in Germany. if there's any awkward wordings or expression, it's due to german influence on my english writing, and i think that's appropriate, considering the character. anyway, we are learning about the EU here in Gemeinschaftskunde (politics), and thus the idea was born..._

_just a disclaimer, all the germans i've met have no such feelings, of needing to repay the past. i just think that, were i a country who killed so many people, i would never be able to forgive myself for it ^^ the german people do, however, never want this event to be forgotten, because, and i quote, "once something is forgotten there is the chance for it to happen again". there's memorials everywhere for wars, WWII in particular._

_i got most of this information from school and wikipedia... and seriously, this is a kind of bad overview. i suggest reading highly detailed books about the stuff if you're interested; it does start with the european coal and steel community though (in german; Europäischen Gemeinschaft für Kohle und Stahl). and everything happened, trust me xD EUROATOM is the nuclear union, EEC is the European Economic Community (basically, large trading without tariffs- still in effect today; in the EU there's no tariffs) (outside the EU there's a sh*tload... shipping packages 'cross the atlantic is sooooo expensive...)_

_**okay, super-long author's note it over!**_

_**I'm sorry this took so long! I'll try to be a bit faster for the next one, but I'm still trying to formulate my ideas...**_

_**R&R, comments make my day :)**_


	5. Chapter 5: Italy

I was going to make mine be the veeeery last chapter in my book, but all the others are take such a long time and I really didn't want to wait for them so I decided to go ahead and put it here! Ludwig keeps telling me that as the author I should save mine for the veeeeeeeeeeeery end, but I don't see why it really matters. I really hope you don't mind…

Well, you're probably waiting for what I have to say about my most important memory, so I guess I should probably tell you. But before I tell you I really think you should know that the only reason I'm writing this memory in particular is for two reasons (I guess that doesn't make it the only reason, huh?): one, because Lovi didn't write about it, and two, because Lovi can't stop me from writing this until the book is already published~ I feel very sneaky now.

But anyway, my most important memory is from me and Lovi's reunification.

See, it's really very important because it changed how we were treated for the rest of history! Well, I mean, we still kind of don't really get along too well, but it was different back then. Well, not really, but at least for that one day. AWWWW there's a puppy outside my window! I'm gonna go pet it! I'll be right back I promise!

…sorry. I didn't mean to be gone so long but the puppy was hungry and adorable and I just absolutely had to- oh. Ludwig's telling me you won't notice how much time has passed, because it's writing and all. I knew that…

But I was writing about our reunification! So there were actually a whole lot of real cool people involved. One of them was Conte Cavour. He wasn't reeeaaally born in Italy, technically nowadays, but back then he was the Minister of Savoy. He really helped me quite a lot. Once, he even managed to get Signor Edelstein to attack me! But see, he was smart about it because first he had me go and talk to Big Brother France and get his support, so when Signor Edelstein started attacking me Big Brother France came to my rescue! And then Big Brother France was very nice, and I was able to collect all my lands again. I hadn't had all my lands since the 1500s, so it was a pretty big deal.

So, while Conte Cavour was helping me gain more lands up north, Giuseppe Garibaldi was doing the same thing for Lovino. Lovino was being very rebellious against Boss Spain at that time, and Garibaldi helped him a lot. There were about a thousand people, and all of them dressed up in red shirts, Lovino included, and followed Garibaldi through all the Regno delle Due Sicilie and almost into the Papal States. Even though he won't admit it, I think that Lovi is still very grateful to Signor Garibaldi for helping him earn his freedom.

What happened after each of us had conquered most of our lands (I was still missing Veneto and Lovi was missing the Papal States) is the Conte Cavour, Re Vittorio Emmanuele, and I all rode down to stop Signor Garibaldi from attacking the Papal States, because at that time they were a part of France and Big Brother Francis reaaaally hates it when people take his land and me and Lovi were both kind of scared of having Big Brother Francis mad at us. He's scary when he's mad- he was suuuuper scary especially when Napoleon was around.

But anyways, when my party met Signor Garibaldi and Lovi, Signor Garibaldi did something no one really expected I don't think- he proposed to unify Italy. So Signor Garibaldi shook hands with Re Vittorio Emmanuele, and handed over all the lands that he'd taken back from Boss Spain.

As soon as they shook hands, both me and Lovi felt something strange. It was kinda tingly, but later we were told that is was just because since we'd united we now had more land and our bodies were trying to get used to that land. But then I ran towards Lovi, and gave him a big hug and, for maybe the second time in his life, he returned my hug.

Even more incredible is something I'll never forget- Lovino's smile. I don't know who has seen his smile, but when Lovi smiles- truly smiles, like someone does when they're very happy- everything about him lights up. I've only seen his true smile once, and it was on that day when we were united as a country for the first time ever. I think that by now maybe Boss Spain has seen it too, but I'm not sure. But truly, the way Lovi looked on that day is something that should be painted on a canvas and immortalized forever.

We still had a lot of work to do before we _really_ became Italy as it is today, but that's why this memory is my most important. Lovino's smile. That's all why he'd probably kill me if he knew what I was writing~ Because nowadays we don't really get along. He thinks I eat too much polenta and am a really big snob, but he is always having to do with those Mafioso types and all his people are really short and lazy. And he's kind of lazy too.

Well, I think I finished my entry now. I hope you guys aren't tooooo mad that this isn't at the end… I hope Ludwig's not too mad either…

Oh! I should probably sign this, shouldn't I?

Signed,

Feliciano Vargas

Italia Veneziano

P.S. I really hope you liked it!

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

_Feli is so airheaded it's hard to write… but the original point of this fic was for me to bring more history to the fandom and practice writing in different voices xD idk about you, but I think I'm managing fine… probably. Feedback is much loved and appreciated, it really motivates me to keep writing. and a HUGE thank-you to all of those who have reviewed (anonymously or not) and/or added this story to your Favs/Alerts list 3 hearts to you all! 3 3 3_

_A few historical notes for those interested: _

_Cavour was born in Nice, which today is a part of France but before the Risorgimento (Italian reunification) was a part of Italy. Cavour promised Napoleon III of France Nice and the Duchy of Savoy if France would agree to help Italy when needed. When Austria-Hungary attacked Savoy with the intentions of keeping its Italian holdings, France came to the rescue and won back Lombardy for King Victor Emmanuel (feli refers to him as Vittorio Emmanuele, the Italian name). a lot of other small duchies, influenced by Cavour, gave their allegiance to Victor Emmanuel in hopes of uniting the Italian peninsula. Meanwhile, down in the south, Garibaldi and his Thousand (yes, that's what they're called. They're also called the Red Shirts, for obvious reasons, namely the fact that they wore red shirts) took the Reign of the Two Sicilies* (Regno delle Due Sicilie is the Italian name, used by feli) and continued his march until the Papal States, at which point Cavour said "uh baaaaaaaaaad idea" and went down with Victor Emmanuel to stop them. So they stopped and Italy was basically unified, although it wasn't until 11 years later in 1871 that the full Italian peninsula, Papal States and the region of Veneto (still held by Austria and given to Italy by Prussia after the Austro-Prussian war) were united. (I really could go on for ages about this subject but I'll save your by-now-bored-minds and shut up ^^)_

_THE END OF A SUPER-LONG AUTHOR'S NOT IF YOU READ THE WHOLE THING I GIVE YOU COOKIES *gives cookies*_


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